Refuse to Admit
by Southern Steel
Summary: Benny Rodriguez groaned again as he reluctantly threw the covers back and swung his feet over the bed. He shut his eyes against the light and rubbed his temple, willing the dull ache to go away. He opened his eyes reluctantly, forcing himself to ignore the pounding in his head.


_**A few months ago I recieved a message asking if I would write another fic where Benny gets hurt. Being the sadistic person I am, I agreed and, a few months later, here is what I came up with. Not my best ever, but I hope you enjoy it none-the-less. :) **_

_**This story is dedicated to Heamic08 and I hope you like it. :) **_

_**Disclaimer: The Sandlot is not mine in any way, shape, form, or fashion. **_

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_Refuse to Admit_

Sunlight beamed into the room through the blinds, the light falling across the lump on the bed. A groan escaped said lump and movement shook the bed as the covers were yanked up, fully covering the sleeping boy. He had just managed to drift back to sleep when a shout woke him once more.

"Benny! Time to wake up or you'll be late!"

Benny Rodriguez groaned again as he reluctantly threw the covers back and swung his feet over the bed. He shut his eyes against the light and rubbed his temple, willing the dull ache to go away. He opened his eyes reluctantly, forcing himself to ignore the pounding in his head.

He got up and dressed slowly, throwing on an extra long-sleeve shirt to try and ward off some of the cold. It only worked to some degree and he still shook lightly. He left the room, trying to ignore what felt like heat spreading across his forehead and eyes. All he wanted to do was crawl back in bed, cover up against the light that hurt his eyes, and sleep some more. But he ignored his brain and headed downstairs.

"Mornin' Mom." He mumbled as he sat down at the table.

"Good morning." His mom smiled, placing a plate of scrambled eggs, sausages, and biscuits on the table. "Better eat fast or you'll be late for school."

Though his stomach twisted at the smell of the food, Benny scooped out a small pile of eggs and a single sausage and biscuit. He mumbled a greeting to his father as the man sat down at the table. Benny took small bites, no more than nibbling at the sausage biscuit. Each bite was a battle to keep the food down, but it was a battle he won…barely. Not noticing the concerned look on his mother's face, he excused himself and hurried to get his things.

He took the stairs slowly, not jumping them as he usually did. When he reached his room, he bent to pick up his backpack and as he stood again he staggered, sudden dizziness overtaking him. He closed his eyes and reached out to steady himself, letting go only when the spell passed. His head began to pound more than before, but Benny did his best to ignore it and hurried back downstairs. He grabbed his bat and glove on the way out, stuffing them into his backpack. He was almost to the front door when his mother's voice stopped him.

"Do you feel all right, Benny?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Benny replied quickly, opening the door. "Just a little tired."

His mother just looked at him, clearly not believing him, but she relented.

"Ok, but if you do get feeling bad just call and I'll come get you."

"Thanks, Mom." Benny called and hurried out the door with no intention what-so-ever of calling.

He knew he was sick, but he couldn't afford to be sick. They had a big game the next day against Phillips and he couldn't miss it and let the guys down. He could be sick the next day, just not today or tomorrow. Besides, it was only a bad cold, nothing to stop him from going to the sandlot. With that though, Benny hurried across the street to meet up with his friends.

The school day passed slowly, with each period worse than the one before. The walk to school had gone fine, with no more dizzy spells, though his friend's loud voices hadn't helped his headache any. By first period, his nose had started to run. By second, his throat was hurting. By third, he was coughing. He skipped lunch, the smell making him feel ready to puke. He struggled through the daily baseball game, doing only slightly bad compared to his usual game, he thought. By the last period, Benny felt a million times worse than he had that morning. When the final bell rang, he was slow to stand. By the time he reached the school entrance, the rest of the guys were already there.

"You ok, Benny man?" Kenny asked as Benny reached them.

"Yeah, yeah you don't look so good!" Yeah-Yeah agreed.

"I'm fine." Benny replied, choking back a cough. "Are we going to the sandlot or not?"

"Benny's right." Ham said quickly. "What are we standing around for? Let's go!"

The boy's didn't need any more urging as they all broke into a run, backpacks bouncing and calls of "I'll beat you" ringing. Benny flinched slightly at the yells, but ran after his friends. He had only made a few steps, however, when his head began to pound and a dizzy spell threatened to overtake him. He began coughing and stopped waiting for the fit to go away. By then, the guys had left him behind, not realizing he wasn't following.

He took off quickly, fighting back the dizziness and the pounding back. He caught up quickly despite the pain, and, despite the confused looks, no one said anything. They reached the sandlot quickly and the group split up, each knowing where they were supposed to go. Benny walked to home plate, rolling his shoulders slightly.

The pounding had increased after the run, and he was just barely holding back his breakfast. He took a few practice swings, ignoring the fact that as he swung forward, he almost toppled over. The others were finishing tossing as he stepped up to the plate and brought the bat back.

"Here comes the heater!" Kenny yelled, pulling back and keeping his eyes on Ham's glove.

Ham was talking behind him, but Benny pushed the voice to the back of his mind as he always did and focused on the ball as Kenny drew back and pitched. A tingling in his throat was the first warning and as Benny swung, a coughing fit overtook him. The bat dropped and he backed away, the ball flying into Ham's glove.

The sandlot boys all exchanged shocked looks as Benny doubled over coughing. Ham stood up, staring at the ball in his glove. Benny had very rarely missed a ball, and when he had missed them was when they had just begun playing ball. He looked up at Benny who had finally straightened up, looking embarrassed.

"You sure you're ok, man?" Ham asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine." Benny answered quickly. "Just a cough."

"You didn't have a cough this morning." Kenny said as he walked up.

Benny just shrugged and brought the bat up again, nodding at Kenny to go back to the mound. Frowning slightly, Kenny jogged back and got ready, not calling out this time. Benny brought the bat back and focused on the ball once more. He blinked and suddenly there were two Kenny's. He blinked again, his eyes opening just in time to see the ball coming toward him.

He swung wildly, missing the ball by a mile.

"Strike two!" Ham called out, shock in his voice.

Benny grunted angrily and pulled his bat back once more, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to bring Kenny back into focus. He saw the ball coming and swung, the bat making a loud "_crack" _as it connected with the ball. The ball went flying and Benny took off running, the bat dropping behind him. He ran toward first, not paying attention to where the ball had gone. He had just rounded first when the dizzy spell hit.

He tried to keep running, but the sudden appearance of two paths before him sealed the deal. He kept running, but it was only a matter of time before he dropped. He was halfway to second when he collapsed to the dirt, rolling onto his back and just lying there. He could hear the guys yelling his name, but he ignored them, choosing instead to close his eyes and wait for the dizziness to go away.

"Are you ok?"

"You ok?"

"Benny?"

Reluctantly, Benny opened his eyes and looked up to see the faces of his teammates around him, concern and worry on all of their faces. He sat up slowly, almost falling over again from the dizzy spell. He would have fallen had it not been for the hands that grabbed at him and helped him sit up.

"You aren't ok, Benny." Smalls said pointedly before Benny could say anything.

"I'm fine, really." Benny denied, a cough catching him right after he finished.

"Oh yes, because falling for no reason is everyone's definition of fine." Ham said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Face it, man, you can't play."

"I can!" Benny argued, struggling to stand.

He swayed, but managed to keep his feet. He started to go back to the plate, but he almost tripped over his own two feet, only remaining standing because of the hands that grabbed at him. He mumbled a thanks to them, more embarrassed then he could say.

"Come on, Benny." Smalls said. "Admit it, you're sick."

"I'm not." Benny said, though his heart wasn't into it. He knew he was, but he would not admit it, especially after the embarrassment of falling down in front of his best friends. The group all exchanged looks before nodding as one. Without a word to Benny, they turned and walked back to where there bags were.

"What are you guys doing?" Benny asked, remaining where he was.

"Leaving." Timmy said.

"Leaving." Tommy repeated.

"We don't want to get sick." Squints added, taking off his glasses and squinting back toward Benny.

"Come on, man." Ham said, "Just go home this one time."

"You'll do more harm than good if you fall over just running to second." Smalls added.

"Fine." Benny sighed, not wanting to admit he was slightly relieved. From the way his stomach was feeling, it wouldn't be long before he lost his breakfast and he would really rather not do that in front of the guys. "I'll see ya guys tomorrow."

Calls of "See ya, Benny!" and "Get well!" followed him as he pulled his backpack on and walked out of the sandlot, waving back at his friends as he did. He hadn't made it far before he heard steps behind him and turned to see Smalls.

"What are you doing, Smalls?" he asked as the boy reached him.

"Well you can't walk alone." Smalls said as if it was obvious. "You practically passed out, Benny. Besides, I have homework I need to finish."

Benny frowned, knowing Smalls could finish the work in plenty of time even if he had stayed an hour past what they usually did. But he didn't say anything, knowing Smalls wouldn't take no for an answer. And so the two walked home in silence, Benny feeling worse with every step and to busy concentrating on not falling again to make conversation.

Smalls left Benny when he reached his house and hurried across to his own. Benny made his way to the house slowly, the pounding in his head worse than before and the cough coming at him almost constantly.

"Mom, I'm home!" he called out, voice hoarse from all the coughing and the soreness.

His mother came out of the living room and shook her head in amusement.

"Why do you always refuse to admit you're sick?" she asked with a slight chuckle before she sent him off to bed with a spoonful of medicine.

As he climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his eyes, Benny couldn't help but roll his eyes at what his mom had said. She knew as well as he did why he always refused to admit he was sick; baseball was too important to him and he was just too stubborn to ever admit he was sick. It was always like this and it always would be. He would always refuse to admit he was sick.


End file.
